Two Dragonborn
by Ayice
Summary: Before the First Dragonborn Miraak can meet his untimely death at the hands of Hermaeus Mora, he is saved by the Last. Now linked, the two Dragonborn must set aside their differences, find common ground and work together to escape the dark that is the Prince of Knowledge and Memories.


**Two Dragonborn**

**[ Prologue ]**

"Goodbye, old friend. We will miss you, but do not worry. Frea will guide us well, thanks to you."

"We won't forget what you did for us, Storn Crag-Strider. Walk with the All-Maker."

"I... uh... you'll be missed, old man."

I stand surrounded by the Skaal, ringed among their cries and laments for their now fallen Shaman Storn.

I look down at his prone unmoving form. His body is now an empty husk, devoid of soul, of spirit. It is a sight I am far too acquainted with yet his death, like so few, sends a sharp pang through me.

"May the All-Maker guide your soul to the next life."

More of the Skaal continue. I offer no words, no comfort, I only stare ahead. Stare as Frea hunches over her father's still form, the father she will no longer have. Stare as more members of the Skaal gather around to pay their respects, praying to their All-Maker.

It is because of me this mourning is occurring, because of me the shaman has fallen, because of me that he shall no longer speak and guide his people. The sorrow his going creates is palpable; it bleeds into the sky, into the air, managing to stir something deep within me. My fists clench, tightening.

"I don't really understand what you did, but I trust you did it for the good of the village. So... thank you."

A Skaal says coming to stand beside me. My gaze leaves Storn's corpse for just a moment before moving over to stare at the Skaal. Morwen, I believe her name is. Her eyes glint, they are devoid of sadness or sorrow. They are actually bright with...respect? Her voice is filled with a trust that is absolute and I realize then that she is looking upon me with faith. She believes that I am to do something, that I will do something. Her gaze shines with an awe that causes me to feel as if I am the great answer to all his unanswered questions. The look she gives pains me, it shames and humiliates me. I am undeserving of such a look, of such faith. How could I be when I did nothing to save Storn? When I had just stood there as Mora took the Shaman in his hold and drained his life.

"It can't be... please, All-Maker, send him back to us..." A Skaal says.

I feel a pained expression beginning to make its way onto my face, but am quick to replace it with one of cool indifference. I don't wish to make anyone worry by seeming hurt. I look away now unable to meet Morwen's eyes.

Despite the fact I am to blame for his shaman's death, she gifts me with a thanks. Despite my conjuring of the Demon of Knowledge and doing nothing then, she gifts me with faith. I do not know how to feel.

More and more of Skaal gather to pay their respects and offer idle comments.

"Frea... I'm sorry."

"By the gods... I've never seen anything like it...I, uh... I don't think this will go in my book."

I still find myself unable to speak, though I wish to. The reason why I cannot find words and speak is one lost to me. All that I do know is I do not belong among the Skaal, among these people. I cannot hope to feel the way they do about Storn's passing, I cannot feel his loss as severely. I am simply an outsider looking in, a mere stranger. I do not belong.

But, I had grown fond of Storn even if the time we spent was very little compared to his village. I respected both him and his knowledge, admired his wisdom. Sacrifice...He had sacrificed himself for me. Died for me. Yet another wise man was lost to the world. Yet another casualty in consequence of my actions.

"Frea...what happened? What was that thing? I thought the village was safe now."

She offers no reply opting for silence instead.

"Myrena."

At the sound of my name I look up with a blink, my thoughts interrupted. Frea has called me, yet her head does not rise to spare me a glance. She remains hunched over her father, holding him in her arms. Her face is taut with grief, it draws her mouth down into a thin line and causes her brows to furrow, birthing deep wrinkles. A small sound escapes her and her eyes seem moist with tears.

It is her grief I feel most of all. It flows out from her in streams that slam me with its intensity. She looks so very lost and vulnerable, like a lost child... And now with both her mother and father gone perhaps she is a lost child. Just I was or am…

"Myrena," She repeats, this time lifting her head to finally acknowledge me. I swallow as I meet her gaze and suddenly recall a conversation we had.

_"Frea, thank you for fighting with me. It's always nice to at least have someone along with. I have been wondering though... For a shaman, you fight pretty well. Who trained you?"_

_A smile touches her lips and she looks away, a far-off look glazing her eyes . It is clear she is currently not with me and in a memory._

_"It was Skaf the Giant, our former chieftain, who taught me the ways of battle." She begins after a moment of silence. Her voice is soft, her tone loving as she recounts the tale. I find my already present smile deepening as she goes on._

_"I used to be terrified of him when I was a little girl. I was a restless and angry child," She explains. "And Skaf taught me swordplay so that I could, as he used to say, 'put that fire to good use.'" Her eyes twinkle with humor and she laughs softly. "He was a great man and a good leader. I miss him dearly."_

Angry and restless. Fire. Frea's eyes are not gentle as they look to me, they are not calm nor moist with tears, they do not mirror sorrow. No, her eyes burn with a vehement fire, a rage full blaze, looking as fierce as a bellowing Dragon. And I had dared to think she looked vulnerable?

"Go." She says. The light in her eyes intensifies. Her one word snaps me out of my daze.

"My father sacrificed himself so that you could destroy Miraak and lift his master's shadow from the land."

Yes, that's right. Storn's sacrifice. I cannot forget it, I cannot forget his act of kindness. What was I doing standing? Why was I not moving to avenge Storn, to destroy Miraak?

_Move, you melonhead!_ My mind hisses. I draw a breath and feel resolve fill me, shattering whatever numb shell that had taken me.

"Frea, I swear it. Upon my name and all that I hold true, I promise that your father's sacrifice will not be in vain."

She smiles, apparently liking what she suddenly sees and hears in me. The anger in her eyes fades replaced now with deep respect and faith. It is apparent that she too expects me to do something, believes that I will do something. And I will.

"Go, then. Kill Miraak. Do not fail."

I turn, saying nor doing nothing else. Perhaps it is the resolve in my eyes, my long determined strides, the anger now emitting from me, but the Skaal look to me in surprise, wide eyed, backing away as I brush past them.

Hermaeus Mora. Miraak.

My fists tighten.

I cannot think. I walk. Eyes staring straight ahead and it is decided. Has always been decided.

I would avenge Storn. I would cease all the plotting. I would go to the summit of Apocrypha and kill Miraak.

* * *

I found myself at The Retching Netch, striding into it after dismounting off Arvaak.

"You have a fierce look in your eye, Outlander." Geldis informed me when I came to stand across from him.

I did not acknowledge his comment settling instead for just inclining my head toward him. I wondered what he saw... Did he see a haggard and weary traveler? With a face drawn tight with a warring of emotions, dark bags under eyes and Daedric armor and skin caked in dirt, blood and ash? If he didn't then he could not see what was before his eyes. Thankfully, I encountered no one else coming into the inn. It was only Geldis and I inhabiting the space.

"I'll be taking one room, Geldis."

I gave him a brief smile-it never hurt to be polite to others-and deposited my ten coins onto the counter. Geldis merely nodded, taking my payment and ushering me to my room.

"I hope that everything is in order for you. Tell me if you need anything else."

"Everything is fine. Thank you, Geldis."

He stared at me for a moment and I stood and did the same. It seemed he wanted to say something but then decided against it for he spared me one last look before he turned abruptly around and began walking off.

"Though," I began, suddenly thinking of something I would need later on. He stopped in his tracks and looked at me patiently when I said, "If it's no problem, I would like some bottles of your strongest wine and mead... anything you have really."

"No problem, Outlander. I'll see what I can find, but don't worry it'll be coming right up. " The elf walked away then, leaving me to my thoughts and self. A hearty sigh escaped me as I took the final steps into my room and closed the doors behind me, locking them. Geldis knew he only had to knock to get me to open them, learning and then knowing I preferred to keep my doors locked no matter where I was. He didn't seem to mind, at least he didn't give any indication of minding, he appeared to understand my habit of doing so and did not address or speak to me about it. I had occupied the same room several times and even if he did mind he should have been used to it.

I dropped my knapsack and walked forward, spotting a full bottle of Nord mead. In an instance I had seized it, uncorked it, and then drank from it, relishing the smooth burn it gave.

_What are you doing?_ A voice yelled. _Drinking? Drinking?! Why aren't you moving? You're wasting time!_ It continued hissing. I ignored it, lumbering over to a chair and sitting.

"Divines bless me," I muttered, taking a swig.

I looked around me. The basic furnishing of an inn room met me, a book shelf, a bed, chairs, tables, decorations. Seeing all this sparked a wave of home sickness. Oh, how I wished to be home. My head leaned back as I closed my eyes and conjured up the sight that was my favorite home in Solitude. I had toiled away bounty after bounty, favor after favor, adventure after adventure, selling and trading along the way for the home, and I had bought it as soon as I had the coin. I only wished to go and relax. Waste my days away reading and reading, enjoying the company of Serana and whoever else, relishing the feel of having a home to stay and sleep warmly in. A home to live and prosper in. But that was an impossible dream. The dream of relaxing and attempting to live out my years in peace.

_Trouble follows you, Myr_. I thought to myself. It was foolish of me to even hold the thought of possibly settling down, the Divines had better plans for me, fate had few more tasks set out for me. I knew that... Yet a small, small part of me garnered that hope. A foolish part. Because so long as I lived I would not find peace. Trouble not only followed me but adventure did as well... _Yes, but you like helping, you actually enjoy all that fighting you do, all the trouble you get into_, my inner voice chimed.

Someone once said that once you got the taste for adventure you were hardly able to stop. Maybe it was I chasing adventure and trouble instead of it me being that I was so used to fighting... It was in my nature as the Dragonborn after all. The nature to conquer, destroy and kill.

I took just one last gulp of mead, downing it all with a chug. It burned right through me, its warmth sliding down my throat and spilling into my veins, spreading throughout my body. My skin buzzed pleasantly, the burning warmth of the mead managing to both invigorate me and calm the core of my emotions. Perhaps it was not wise to drink before venturing to do what I needed to, but just one drink felt very much needed. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and threw the now empty bottle behind me, not at all mindful of the mess I was creating.

I groaned, getting up from the chair and bending over to pick up my knapsack so that I could go over to my bed. My body yearned to sleep, yearned to rest, fatigued by both my trip here and the events of before. I sighed, promising myself rest after I did what I had to. After my trek to Apocrypha was complete.

"..."

My fists clenched as sudden anger, deep hot anger, flashed through me. My brows furrowed with it, my teeth gritted and my body burned and quaked with it. Apocrypha. I took a breath. I was angry at myself for not doing a thing, for not refusing Mora and allowing Storn to sacrifice himself. Damn it to Oblivion, I could have done something. By the Divines, I could have prevented that man's death! The death of the man who had decided to aid me in my quest.

Most of all I was angry at Miraak, a Dragonborn like me...

The blasted priest who had taunted me, threatened me and my life, sought my demise, and had controlled the minds of countless to do his bidding just so that he could return to Tamriel once more to wreak havoc and chaos. He had even ventured to take the kills that were rightfully mine, the souls of Dragons that were mine to take, robbing me of my natural right to have them.

_"It takes a strong will to command a Dragon's soul, perhaps you aren't as powerful as you think"_

My knuckles whitened as I recalled him declare me weak.

He wanted to return, to be free of Mora and reign, but I would not allow it. He would be dead first. I had sworn it and so I would ensure it.

Eager to forget myself and my anger, I heaved a sigh, opened my bag and took out a Black Book. The Book of Waking Dreams. It thrummed with power, nearly vibrating in my hands, pulsing with its light, begging me to read and partake in its dark knowledge. I steeled myself, allowing myself a moment of peace before opening the book. I looked over what I had. My sword rested strapped to my side, while I placed two health, magicka and stamina potions in my small pouch, a dagger lay concealed in a boot. And that was all I needed to take to Apocrypha. All I would need.

I opened the book. Light, brilliant light assaulted me for a second before everything became dotted in black. Everything blurred, the edge of my vision becoming tinted in green. My vision swam. I held the book as its magic reached out, its darkness wrapping around me, choking me, as it transported me from one realm to another.

The transit between realms is always the hardest, at least for me. Sight takes a few moments to regain itself, balance is ultimately off, deep nausea settles in, something foul is smelled briefly and everything spins around you, you're obviously disoriented. Such discomfort last only a second really, but at times it feels like forever. At least that is what it ultimately feels like to me. When I finally settled into my body, no longer feeling nauseous nor faint, I glanced around.

* * *

I rolled away, managing to dodge the Lurker's attempt to crush me beneath its foot. I exhaled, staring up at the Lurker, blade at a guard, feet spread as I waited. It edged toward me with heavy, awkward stomps. Howling, it spewed. Tentacles and viscous fluid emerged. I was quick to move away from the disgusting mix. Eck. I grimaced and moved then.

The Lurker screeched as I slashed it. It swung its massive arms attempting once more to hit me, but it missed when I effectively dodged. It screamed. I smiled, it was getting frustrated. _You're dragging this on, just get this over with_, my inner voice yawned with boredom. I sighed, acknowledging the voice and leapt back. I would end it now. I charged forward, jumping and then slashing down, dispatching the Lurker with a quick blow to its head. It gave a hoarse death cry before melting down to a pool.

I sheathed my blade, exhaling, and walked. Rolling my shoulders around, I stretched my arms, working the tension out of them. Rich cracks and creaks rewarded me as tension flowed out. How I wished for a massage, a nice rich massage. I thought back to where my true body sat, situated quite comfortably in my room as I stood here facing Mora's servants. _The sooner you finish the sooner you can relax_. Finding a font of Stamina, I stopped and absorbed it. My weary muscle and bones recharged themselves with the Font's energy.

Continuing my trek, I made my way through the tunnel and found a scrye. With the touch of my hand it activated, allowing me entry to the main room and then stairs leading to a main area. In the area sat a pedestal in its center. The fifth chapter glowed before me, beckoning, and I proceeded into it. More Seekers came to meet me as I weaved through the tunnels of this Chapter. I dispatched them all and had thought with annoyance that oh dear Herma was such a spectacular Prince with all his letting his creatures attack his so-called "precious" Champion. They were a nuisance. _A nuisance I shouldn't have to deal with_, I had continued thinking. I'd received much better treatment from other Daedric Princes- much better, granted any treatment of theirs wasn't the best either.

Soon enough I found myself in a large room with four walkways, all linking to the center of the room where a circular area stood glowing. Each walkway contained a small center where an empty pedestal lay. In the glowing center another pedestal stood, but instead of having nothing it held the book leading into the next-and hopefully- last Chapter. Moving onto Chapter V required my going to each empty pedestal and placing on it a Black Book found in a previous Chapter. The center book had glowed and with that I had entered the next Chapter.

This chapter was different. I noticed it as soon as I came within it. Perhaps it was the stark and vivid feel to it or the subtle shift in energy, but I felt more..aware. I found the hairs on my arms and neck rising as something tickled my senses. I pressed on, walking into and entering a clear and open area much different than the other chapters. Looking upward revealed a murky dark sky of emerald, papers and books abound. In the distance a black towering structure could be seen... The summit of Apocrypha...

I stepped forward and immediately stopped when a familiar noise reached my ears, when a familiar sensation swept across me.

Chanting. Chanting was what I heard, faint at best. I felt myself becoming even more aware, felt the hairs on my arm and the back of my neck rise all the more, chills rose. I looked forward to find two Seekers and tensed as I saw what the two were doing. They were examining a Word Wall. A wall with a shout… A sharp sense of excitement jolted me and almost as if in a trance I stepped forward, getting closer to the wall, closer to the chanting. The Dragon words craved into stone called out to me-its symbols beckoning me.

When I came close enough, the Seekers took notice, leaving their inspection to now look at me. They attacked, but I hardly noticed, much too taken by the chanting in my ears, much too enthralled by the carved glowing words before me. I slashed them down, dispatching them, and almost greedily closed the distance off between the wall and I. The Chanting was louder now, drowning me in its noise. It reverberated through my soul, shaking me.

My hand shot out to trace the indentations the blue words left and my lips moved rapidly, uttering the words to the new shout that was currently branding itself into my soul. I closed my eyes and tilted my head up, exhaling as the new shout filled me, as it became another part of me, as it fulfilled me. Light enveloped me, light became me, and I was complete. The Chanting echoed and boomed, then it died and the words lost their glow. I had a new word. Innately I knew it was the last and final piece to Dragon Aspect shout and a proud sort of feeling glinted through me. The shout was complete now, the words a full chant.

I opened my eyes, feeling more sure and renewed than ever. That was what finding a shout did for me. What completing yet another piece of myself did. And for a moment I felt invincible, unstoppable, and I was. I found a smile curving my lips and then I heard it, a dragon's roar. Unable to help it, I stiffened then snapped to and spun around, sword ready, body at guard.

_Flap, flap._

I looked up and surely there it was, a large blue dragon, roaring and flying up above as it glared and circled me. I recongnized the dragon... It let out another fine bellow, its great maw opening in order to gift me with a blast of its breath. A solid stream of ice came to encase and smash me, I rolled away, dodging it, and as if on its own accord a shout left me in retaliation.

"_GOL HAH DOV_!"

Before I could blink, light engulfed the Dov and a roar left him. Then he stopped his violent assault. His wings flapped slower now and he lowered himself and landed before me, stirring the air and shaking the ground. I immediately felt dwarfed.

"Hail, thuri. Your thu'um has the mastery. Climb aboard and I will carry you to Miraak."

I blinked, finding this so very strange. So he wasn't going to attack me? Insult me? And he knew what I came to do? Hermaeus really had given me the last word to the Bend Will shout and it really did work on dragons… Now I was like Miraak, on equal footing as he. I too could control the dragons. I took a tentative step forward, then another, looking squarely into the eyes of the dragon. No hate or malice shone in his eyes, just a neutral and almost friendly sort of light, a friend instead of a foe, which was what I was usually used to. I took the final step toward him and put a hand on his scales. Blue and smooth, the green lights of the realm glinted off the surface of his skin, illuminating it. I found myself staring.

My hand stroked down, noting the smoothness of his scales. My gaze darted back to the dragon's. He was waiting, as patient as ever, waiting for only my action.

"..."

I found myself climbing on, hefting myself up. He took a moment to move, almost as if giving me time to adjust, and flew up into the sky. Wind rustled every part of me as his great wings flapped and brought us higher into the sky. An exhale of awe left me as I adjusted, sitting much more comfortably now.

I looked down as we flew, looking down at murky and treacherous depths that was Hermaeus' realm.

"Beware, Miraak is strong. He knew you would come here."

I blinked and looked up, nodding. The great tower loomed ahead, the summit, the peak that grew closer and closer the more we flew. I swallowed, suddenly feeling apprehensive.

"Thank you..." I didn't know the Dov's name, but he was quick to offer it.

"Sahrotaar."

I smiled. "Thank you, Sahrotaar..." He inclined his head as if nodding and continued his flight. My fists closed and opened. I wasn't too sure about what I was thanking the dragon for, but I supposed it was for his act of getting me to where I had to go...even if I had to influence him with a shout.

The tower was closer now and the new deeply rooted sense of apprehension I was feeling only grew. I knew it wasn't fear growing in my gut...No, it was complete and utter apprehension. I wondered just where my confidence had gone, the confidence I had just before reaching this point. It was still there, but masked now in this new sense of unease.

As if sensing the small little doubt in me, Sahrotaar spoke. "Your thu'um is stronger than Miraak's."

I blinked once more and swallowed. Something about his words touched me and I smiled down at the dragon helping me.

"Thank you again, Sahrotaar."

He said nothing then. The tower was before us now, just a flap away. I heard and felt the presence of two more dragons. As well as another with a soul much like mine. I looked down and froze. Just below was the one I sought.

Miraak.

I jolted when he looked up to meet my stare squarely. Then he merely looked away, clearly deeming me a non-threat, and began his slow walk toward the place of Sahrotaar's landing.

"Sahrotaar, are you so easily swayed?"

The two other dragons I sensed glided a few feet down, flanking their master from up above. He addressed them. "No. Not yet. We should greet our guest first."

The air stirred as Sahrotaar landed and I dismounted. I shot and gave Sahrotaar one last look and pat before walking forward. Miraak came forward as well, his strides slow and measured. I glared ahead and continued my walking as Miraak spoke, his accent tinged voice confident and mocking.

"And so the First Dragonborn meets the Last Dragonborn at the summit of Apocrypha. No doubt just as Hermaeus Mora intended." He paused. I fumed, feeling anger boil deep beneath my gut.

"He is a fickle master, you know. But now I will be free of him. My time in Apocrypha is over."

More anger, more rage. I looked to find the two dragons perched on arches. They looked down at me with malice, excited and fevered, no doubt ready to take their own piece of Dragonborn. I looked right back to Miraak refusing to let myself be shaken.

"You are here in your full power, and thus subject to my full power. You will die."

I felt my anger surge and took my last and final step before stopping. He stopped when he reached the center of the tower. Our gazes locked.

"With the power of your soul, I will return to Solstheim and be master of my own fate again. Kruziikrel! Relonikiv! Now!"

His dragons dispatched, flying into the air. I spread my feet, unsheathed my blade and launched forward, springing into action.

_"MUL QAH DIIV!"_

I was quick to envelop myself in the power and protection of Dragon Aspect, the shout Mora had helped me complete. Miraak was quick to use the same shout and I rolled to my right as a bolt of lightning singed the space beside me.

He was a formidable opponent, did I really expect no less? He gifted me with attack after attack, using spells rather than blade. I gritted my teeth, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

I swung and smiled when it connected. A grunt of pain gifted me and I rushed to deliver another hit, keen on being quick. Another sound of pain escaped him and I grinned. I pushed forward, went to swing once more and blinked as my sword met air. With a shout, Miraak disappeared or rather he had sped away so quickly that it was if he had disappeared. Barely able to track it, I saw as he darted over to a pool and allowed tentacles to swiftly consume him.

Wait, what?

I looked around, gaze darting as I strove to find my opponent. What trick was this? The sound of movement caused my ears to perk up and I spun around to find him emerging from the center pool.

He was intangible. One of his dragons flew down and landed, shaking the ground. I blinked, did I have to fight him off as well? What happened next startled me into stillness. With a shout, the dragon dissipated, scales flayed and scattered in the wind, soul traveling over to Miraak with just one shout. _Divines guide me, he just..._

I had no time to think let alone dwell upon what I had just saw because Miraak was on the move, apparently revitalized by the deceased dragon's energy.

We fought once more, me slashing, him defending then attacking, me dodging and spinning back. Our dance continued on and on, shouts and magic abound as we each tried to do what we wanted, kill the other. Soon Miraak was weak. I grinned in our movement, seeing a moment of fragile defense and turning my blade to penetrate it. I nearly shrieked in outrage as he grew ethereal once more and dodged my blade. Swish and it went through air.

_He's using the dragons to heal!_ My mind was quick to shout as he repeated what he had done before. He disappeared into a pool, emerged in the center, and a second dragon fell to his shout. By this time fine sweat ran down my skin and coated me. By this time I was beyond angered, I was livid. All this playing and dodging. I was getting sick of it! I was being worn down, but I wasn't done yet. I simply wanted this to be over.

I glared up at the damned priest just as our blades met, sparking against each other. I could feel the smug smile hiding beneath his mask and it had me seething, seeing red. I grunted and pressed on, moving quicker now. I blinked when a sharp shout resounded behind me and the air boomed. A glowing apparition appeared before me, right by my side, fighting. An ancient Dragonborn... The ancient joined me in my fight against Miraak. I wasn't alone, I had help! And with help the battle would soon be over. I felt the spirit of victory fill me as well as the spirit of hope. I felt exhilarated as I slashed and the ancient shouted. I felt confident as the ancient slashed, I shouted. Together, we did what we had to. Together we stood tall and proud, fighting, winning. We wore Miraak down and injured him strike after strike. But the ancient couldn't stay forever, he disappeared right as I charged to deliver the final blow, right as Miraak disappeared once more.

_Catch him just as he appears!_

I went to chase him and stop him before he killed another dragon, but it was too late. My eyes grew wide as Sahrotaar touched down and was ripped asunder with a shout. His life's energy swirled and once again Miraak was renewed. I broke, allowing all the fury I felt free, allowing it to consume me.

In a flash I was before Miraak, slashing, striking, hitting, using my emotion as a tool to quicken my movements. Then something occurred to me, it was an odd thought, an idiotic idea, but it was an idea nonetheless.

Maybe I didn't have to fight him. Not when I could _control_ him.

I jumped back and gathered myself, inhaling sharply and shouting, "_GOL HAH DOV_!"

It seemed he had the same idea for just as the shout left my lips it left his. Nothing happened. For either of us. Mouth agape because it hadn't worked, I was simply pushed back by some invisible force and was sent scrambling to the side to dodge yet another flying, writhing mass of tentacles Miraak sent forward. Okay, that was it.

I charged, running, faked a left, went right and swung, satisfied to feel and hear my blade clang against his form. I didn't allow him to react or move before delivering another strong blow. Finally, just as he was to fall to my blade, he disappeared. My blade hit the ground and my teeth gritted. My chest heaved sharp breaths and my arms shook with an effort to raise them. I spread my feet and turned so that I faced the center of the tower. He would rise from the pool once more and when he did I was and would be ready for him.

His form was slow to rise and when it did emerge, when I went to move and fight, he was yanked up. I could only watch as he was plucked up into the air, floating as he struggled against some unknown force. Black holes dotted with all knowing eyes popped into the sky, gaze on Miraak, tentacles writhing as the Prince of Knowledge and Memories addressed his first champion in a harrowing hiss.

"Did you think to escape me, Miraak? You can hide nothing from me here." His voice chilled me to the bone and I continued to watch in silent horror. Just what was happening?

"No matter," The Prince continued, "I have found a new Dragonborn to serve me."

A tentacle shot up, going straight through Miraak, impaling him. A choked sound escaped the priest and he struggled all the more, blood spilling. A flash of indignant anger went through me as I realized that Hermaeus hoped to take the finishing blow. My finishing blow. I could hardly believe it as I stared at Miraak's continued struggle. Time suspended, everything slow, as more than a million doubts and thoughts charged through my mind, making me dizzy with their speed. I could only stare wide-eyed as Miraak moved and writhed in Hermaeus' hold.

Miraak was going to die now. Not by my hand, but by Mora's. Not exactly as I promised, but the deed would be done. Miraak would be dead, no longer able to inflict pain, torture or suffering. Just as planned. A part of me did yell for Mora to finish him, for Mora to do it. Just as another part yelled for Mora to release Miraak at once so that I could kill him. Then another part of me arose that yelled for me to save Miraak. My hands shook. I didn't know where that thought had come from, the thought of saving him. Why would I want to save the one who wished to end me just for his own gain? It was stupid for me to do such a thing, still…

_If you're going to do something then do it!_ yelled the always logical part of me. She was right. If I was going to do something, I was going to have to do it now. Either let Miraak die or...or save him...

My arms shook now.

_Save him... _

The very idea was ludcrious. Miraak should die, no matter if it was by my hands or Hermaeus'. And yet... I-I was wavering. But why?

Then it hit me, hit me with a clarity so startling it jarred me. I knew why I was wavering. A simple realization that shook me came through. A realization that changed everything.

Miraak. I _had_ to save Miraak, I had to. Because...because he-he was the same as I. Dragonborn. Of the same soul. Kin. Never had two Dragonborn existed within the same time-within the same instance-not that I knew of... And-and never would there be another time I was sure. Never would the First and Last exist again. He was just like me. Just like me. Like me in that he knew how it felt... How it felt to be both dragon and man... He knew of the pain it came with, of all the struggle it caused, and of all the...loneliness. The loneliness that was like a churning wave of destruction and desolation that crushed and broke, that often left me alone and...bereft. If I saved Miraak, I-I wouldn't be alone, I'd have someone like me... Someone like me.

That deep part of me continued to scream at me to save, to act. It begged for him to be saved- to save the one that was the same as I.

Before I could think any further, before I could decide, I sprung into action, impulse and instinct guiding me. I experienced a moment of fracture. I both watched and did. Watched as I darted across the space between me and the floating Miraak. Watched as I leapt and slashed down. And felt the moment I sliced right through the sinuous and insidious tendril that held Miraak.

A noise like no other filled the realm. The dark Prince screamed. A horrendous and earth shattering sound of outrage. It had me cringing, but I had no time to wallow in the immense fear pumping through me. I could only spin around and launch forward to catch a falling Miraak.

I caught him in my arms, skidding across the ground with his weight in my arms. Momentum allowed me to spring up and carry him. What now? How were we going to escape? There was no black book around for me to read and the only other way to escape was to die in this realm, but... I looked at Miraak. If I escaped through death, would he come with me. He wasn't able to leave the realm, not without the power of my soul. So how?

Large tufts of air escaped me as I urged myself not to look toward the Daedric Prince that was now yelling obscenities at me. _Think Myrena, think! _My mind scrambled for an escape route, one that would ensure our survival. I yelped when my thoughts were interrupted and a large tendril of slime came to whip me. I hefted Miraak further into my arms and moved, running from the now present obstacles that Hermaeus was now putting in my way. Tentacle after tentacle came to trip, catch or snare me, but I held firmly onto Miraak and made good use of my Whirlwind Sprint.

_Think! Think!_

I was driven to the edge of the tower with my to and fro dodging. Wind whipped the back of my neck, lashing. Lurkers and Seekers of all kind had emerged now, stalking toward me, tentacles of all sizes slithering around in the background. The outrage the dark Prince felt shook me and left me frozen, but I had to keep moving. I couldn't fight, not with a weakened Miraak in my arms. I looked behind me and nearly staggered. More than a few feet below the murky and acidic depths of Apocrypha's water smiled up at me, treacherous and beckoning. I looked back to the Seekers and Lurkers in front of me. It was either them or... I looked back down at the murky depths. That.

_It's now or never, Myr. Decide._

I looked back at my opponents, used a half-hearted shout to push them back, turned and then jumped, using another Whirlwind Sprint to propel me and my charge faster into the black water waiting to consume us. I couldn't help it, I screamed, screamed as the sight of the water rushed to meet me. The force in which we landed jarred me, slamming the air out of my lungs. The impact alone should have killed me, but it didn't. Thick liquid began to fill my lungs and I choked. My limbs growing heavy... I sunk. I couldn't see, I couldn't move, I couldn't feel, I couldn't breathe. Still I tried to maintain my hold on Miraak, hand reaching out for him._ Can't...breathe.._. My mouth opened in a wordless cry as I choked one final time and faded to black.

* * *

**_Author's Note_**

_Well here we go, the long-awaited beginning and first chapter of Two Dragonborn! I apologize to all who waited! I was just so swamped with school and everything and could only work on small bits and pieces throughout the long, hard months. I am, however, free now! School has ended and with that I am absolutely free, well, excluding the fact that I have two summer projects to complete for my classes next year. Even though the beginning says it's the prologue, you can consider this chapter the prologue+ first chapter. The prologue portion was only the Skaal village part, other than that everything else is the first chapter. I really hoped you all enjoyed this! Please review and tell me how you liked it (or didn't like it LOL?). I really hoped this was a good read and I really hope that you want me to continue! I also hope the length wasn't too much, if it is I apologize! I'll try to keep length in mind next time. Once again, thank you! Feedback is much welcomed. Ciao! :)_


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